


Just as terrified as you (talking optional)

by OnlyOneWoman



Series: All/No Talk [1]
Category: Black Sails
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Billy Bones is skittish as fuck, Charles Vane is a patient man, Coffee Shops, Communication, Communication through notes, Dating, Dating without talking, Falling In Love, Flirting, Kissing, Lots of blushing, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Pining, Sexual Content, Social Anxiety, just a little smut, selective mutism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-12
Updated: 2016-10-12
Packaged: 2018-08-22 01:24:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8267590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnlyOneWoman/pseuds/OnlyOneWoman
Summary: "Coffee after the movie? Talking optional."Charles Vane is working in a coffee shop at a university. One of his regular costumers, Billy Manderly, doesn't talk, but he doesn't use sign language either. He mimics. Charles gets more than a little curious and that curiosity leads to some unexpected things for both of them. I realise I maybe should've put it in one piece with different chapters, but I didn't know where it was going and definately not that it would be this long, so you need to see this as CHAPTER 1, rather than part 1.Comments are always appreciated :)





	

There are days when Charles actually likes his job. Not enough to entirely stop searching for a better one, but things could definately be worse. Making coffee to university students isn’t that bad. At least not on Tuesdays and Fridays at 10 AM. Charles doesn’t know his name yes, but he’s become a regular this semester. Most people take to the biggest coffee shop in the area. It’s quicker and has more variety. The small coffee shop where Charles works isn’t quite as popular, but it gets around. And every Tuesday and Friday the same student comes by, buying a vanilla soy latte.  
  
He’s always alone at first, carrying the same black bag and looks like he’s about to run away if someone talks to him. Oh, yes: and he’s hot. Really hot. Charles sees his fair share of guys on his job, but this one is really something. He’s an athlete, tall and has an ass to die for. Only he doesn’t talk. At all.  
  
Charles isn’t much of a talker himself, but he isn’t shy, he’s never been. With this job comes a lot of small talk and he’s good at it. Good at making his costumers feel good. But this guy. He literally doesn’t say a word and it’s creeping Charles out. Still, he longs for the two times every week when this guy comes by. Because there’s nothing wrong with a piece of eye candy at work, even he doesn’t seem to know the mening of smiling or talking.  
  
This morning, the guy has a pair of jeans and a dark blue hoodie and he looks just as sour as always. Charles doesn’t understand why he can’t get him out of his mind. It’s not like he’s the only hot piece of ass passing by regularly, but he’s the only one that literally _mimics_ exactly seven words every time, Charles has counted them: _A vanilla soy latte, please. Thank you._ Then a polite nod.  
  
He has good taste thou, ’cause honestly, Charles’ vanilla soy latte tastes damn good. Lately, Charles puts one small cacao bean-formed chocolate piece on top of the foam. He’s done it six times and the guy may or may not have noticed that he’s receiving a little extra on his coffee that othes don’t get, but he doesn’t mention it and he’s clearly eating it. So, he likes or at least he doesn’t dislike chocolate. That is, if he’s not eating it not to offend Charles, of course.  
  
The fact that he never has company, is strange. At least in Charles’ eyes. He’s really handsome, and if he’s not the asshole of the year, which Charles has decided he’s not, he should have lots of company. But he’s always alone and that’s why, after five weeks of this chocolate added situations, Charles one day decides it’s time to take things a little further. When the guy comes by, Charles talks before he orders:  
  
”The usual?”  
  
At first, the guy looks completely surprised, as if he hasn’t realised himself he’s a regular by now. And then he nods. And blushes. So, maybe he’s not a jerk for not smiling, but just… shy? But why would a guy that handsome be shy? It’s a mystery to Charles, who’s always connected social awkwardness with people who feel they either aren’t smart or handsome enough to feel comfortable. But Charles has seen some of this guys books and he’s studying literature, so he’s clearly not just another jock taking economy classes. What does he have to feel shy about?  
  
As usual, Charles adds a little extra to the order. Three beans comes with the foam and the smile. In return, Charles gets a deep blush and eyelashes lowering as the guy fumbles to get his card out from the wallet. He drops it on the counter and a bunch of cards and some coins are falling out.  
  
_Sorry. Excuse me._ Charles is all puzzled as he quickly helps the guy to collect the items. The guy is still mimicking. Not talking quiet, not whispering but really mimicking. What the fuck? He’s mute? Like, really mute? No, that doesn’t seem right. Charles has met a lot of people who’re mute, and they use sign language. This guy is simply really fucking shy. That must be why he’s always having his coffee alone. Charles feels sorry for him, and a little annoyed. Why would someone with a body and face like that be shy? Of course, Charles knows more than well that social anxiety isn’t about that, but still.  
  
At first he’s afraid this guy may not come by again. Maybe choose one of the other coffee shops instead, but the next time he shows up, is the usual one and the only change in his behavior, is a slight blush. So, that’s when Charles decides it’s time to take another step. Together with the usual serviette under the latte glass, Charles adds a little note. The guy looks puzzled when he notices the change, but Charles only smiles a little and goes on as usual with his work. And a little later, when the guy has disappeared and Charles collects the glass, he takes up the note and smiles as he read the answer to the question he wrote down earlier:  _Billy. You?  
  
_ The added question makes Charles smile the rest of the day and he keeps the note, eager to answer the question and add a new one. The next time Billy’s stopping by, a note saying: _Charles Vane. What’s your favorite color?_ is added under the glass. Charles watches Billy in secret as he reads the note and a little smile occurs in the usually so serious face. When Charles collects the glass, the note says: _Light blue. Yours?  
_  
This strange ”conversation”, for lack of a better word, goes on for about two weeks and Charles gets to know that this Billy enjoys soccer, old horror movies, guinness and is currently taking a class in English 1500th century poetry. Poetry? Really? In return, Charles tells him he’s a sucker for death metal and old Buicks, is owned by a seven years old cat lady named Morrigan and can’t stand it when people touches his hair. By now, Billy’s smiles and blushes ensure Charles that for what it’s worth, this guy doesn’t seem to feel offended by this, and after having thought about it for a little while, the next question under Billy’s latte glass is: _Cinemas some day?_ _Talking optional.  
  
_ The horrified expression in Billy’s face as he reads the note, makes Charles almost certain he’s fucked up, but when the receives the answer it says: _No Adam Sandlers, Julia Roberts or Hugh Grant. Friday?_ Charles feels all warm. He doesn’t even know how this guys voice sounds, their only communication yet is through some pieces of paper, not enough to fill out a short letter, but he’s more excited about this than he’s been for any other date.  
  
Date? Could it count as a date? That’s a question Charles doesn’t know if he dares to ask. What if this ridiculously handsome dude isn’t into guys at all? Charles usually isn’t bad at reading those kind of signs, but this guy isn’t comparable to other men or women he’s been out with. He doesn’t want to scare him off before he’s had a chance to meet him for real. He quickly checks out which movies are currently showing and when he serves the latte, the note says: _The Hateful Eight? Eight thirty?_ Tarantino… Billy smiles and Charles feels ridiculously relieved. This guy has a good taste. When he delivers his answer ( _Perfect_ ) and Charles answers with a _Talking? No talking?_ Billy seems a bit freaked out and Charles raises his eyebrows, showing him he sees his hesitation. The final note that week, before the ”date” or whatever it is says: _No talking?_ Charles gives Billy his most friendly smile and a nod. This is getting very interesting.  
  
Fact is, Charles getting a little more than curious about Billy. He may not use his voice, but he talks and Charles is pretty sure Billy’s problem with talking isn’t about being mute. It has to be some form of social anxiety. When the Friday comes, Charles isn’t sure if Billy will come, but he only has to wait a couple of minutes outside the cinema before he shows up and Charles has to swallow hard, because Billy’s dangerously handsome in his quite tight jeans and green checkered shirt. He seems nervous and Charles understands that the best he can do, is to simply head to the salon and let Billy follow.  
  
Once they sit in the darkness, Charles can feel Billy relax. They’ve never been this close to each before and the discrete scent from Billy’s aftershave and the sound from his breathing so close, makes Charles a little dizzy. He doesn’t pay the movie much attention, it’s impossible while having this pure fucking hotness next to him.  
  
Just when the commercials are over and the movie is about to start, he receives another note from Billy:  _I have selective mutism and social anxiety. I’m not mute, I just can’t make myself talk without getting angst. Sorry. If you want out of this, we can leave separately.  
  
_ Charles has never heard of selective mutism, but social anxiety isn’t new to him. If Billy think this is scaring him off, he couldn’t be more wrong. If this guy is so scared to talk, he has to do it by notes, then he must be really fucking brave to get out on a date. Charles hands over his answer. _Coffee after the movie? Talking optional._ Billy’s face expression is hard to read in the darkness, but Charles can definately tell he’s confused, but not more tense. The next note says: _You’re alright with this? You know what it is?_ Charles answers the only way he knows: _I know how to google and I’m comfortable with no talking. We have a date?  
  
_ Of course it’s a date of some sort. Hell, Charles may not know much about social anxiety, but not all of Billy’s blushes has been out of pure discomfort. This whole thing, whatever it is, is getting far too interesting for Charles to drop out. He loves a challenge and Billy could easily be the hottest challenge he’s ever come across. No fucking way he’s letting this guy off the hook before he knows more. The written answer says a simple: _Yes_.  
  
To concentrate on the movie is hard for Charles, but as he expected, it’s way more difficult for Billy. So, Charles makes another ridiculous move and hands over a note with a question and two squares with _Yes_ and _No_ written next to them. It’s like one of those notes you made in school when you were nine or ten and had a crush on someone, but didn’t dare to ask them face to face. When Billy reads the note, Charles can tell he has a hard time not to laugh. Good. The answer is a cross in the square for _Yes_. Charles takes his hand.  
  
Billy’s big hand is warm and it trembles. Charles entangles their fingers together. He can feel Billy’s pulse speed up and he responds with a firm squeeze, silently praying Billy wont notice the bulge in his pants.They sit like that until the movie ends, but Charles, who’s more or less hard the whole time, has no idea what the movie is about anymore and he suspects Billy has no clue either. A very, very cautious glance tells Charles that things may have changed behind the Billy’s jeans fabric as well. When the end credits begins and people start to get up, they slowly let go, both of them determined not to look in the wrong direction.  
  
Billy is still blushing and Charles quickly writes another note. _The coffee shop by the corner?_ The answer is a nod, but Billy’s not smiling now. He looks uncomfortable again, much as he does in the cafeteria, but Charles decides not to show he’s seeing that and they head for the coffee shop. Their bodies seem to have calmed down now. At least nothing is visible anymore.  
  
When they’re just outside, Billy hesitates. From outside, the place isn’t crowded at all. Only a few guests and there’s plenty of tables left. Charles isn’t sure of what the problem is, since the cinema had much more people and this place is far less crowded than the university café where Charles is working. He recieves another note, and Billy looks extremely uncomfortable. _Can you make the order for me? I’ll pay for myself of course, but I can’t order._  
  
Of course he will. Charles isn’t surprised at all and he answers: _What do you want?_ No other comments. The answer is: _The usual._ Charles gets all warm. The usual. That means Billy is, if not comfortable, so at least less uncomfortable with him.  
  
When they’ve paid for their coffee, Charles lets Billy choose a table. Hell, he doesn’t know where a guy with social anxiety wants to sit and he doesn’t want to make it harder for him by taking a spot where he feels exposed.  
  
The silence isn’t awkward for Charles. Especially not now when he knows. Billy is a brave guy and Charles is getting more and more impressed by him. He doesn’t talk and he has social anxiety to a level Charles has never experienced before, and still he’s studying, exposing himself to the overly social environment at the university and now he’s even on a fucking date. With _him_. Charles isn’t an intellectual and he’s never pretended to be one. Serving coffee to students has shown him more than once how little some people think of a simple coffee shop worker. His appearence doesn’t make it easier: all muscles and long hair. Because, of course, that must mean he’s got nothing between his ears but the route to the gym. Now he’s a little ashamed for his first impression of Billy as a snooty intellectual when he didn’t smile or look him in the eyes in the beginning.  
  
Billy sips on his coffee, seemingly relaxing a little. Charles has a hard time not undressing him with his eyes. It doesn’t take much imagination to picture what’s under the tight jeans and shirt. How lean and warm the skin must be, surrounding the well-formed muscles… Charles manages to stop his thoughts before they’re too obvious. He takes up his pen and paper again: _I have no idea what the movie was about. Do you?_ Billy laughs. Not out loud, of course, but the small twitch in his body together with the smiling lips pressed hard together doesn’t require a sound. The answer makes Charles laugh too. _No clue.  
  
_ Charles’ laugh isn’t mute, but not loud either. More like a snicker. Usually, quiet people make him talk and laugh louder, he doesn’t know why. Maybe to fill out the silence. That doesn’t work with this guy and fact is, Charles likes it. Despite his ”I can google” answer earlier, he hands over another note. _I know I wrote that I can google, but if you’re alright with it, maybe you could tell me about that mutism thing? If not, we could talk about something else._ Blushes. Gulps. Billy starts writing.  
  
_The sound of my voice makes me panic sometimes. I don’t know why. It’s been like that for years. It’s nothing odd with the sound of it, I know that, but often I can’t make myself talk. Just writing in front of you is exhausting._ Charles thinks a while before he answers: _I can close my eyes while you’re writing, if that helps.  
  
_ Charles has no idea how to deal with this kind of problems, but his instincts seem to work. In his eyes, people are different and that means you can’t expect everyone to communicate the same way. It’s basic common knowledge, but as the paper goes between him and Billy, lines slowly filling it, he realises his way of dealing with this isn’t common at all. It’s more than a little surprising, since Charles has always considered himself far from an intellectual, and to learn that there are people in Billy’s class, teachers and professors that don’t understand this, makes him think even less of his costumers.  
  
They stay for a long time, long after they’ve finished their coffee, just talking. When Charles reaches for Billy’s left hand, he doesn’t hesitate, but let their fingers entwine. It’s quite assuring, but Charles wants to be sure. His next note says: _Straight?_ Billy’s answer and face expression makes him laugh: _Are you kidding me?_ Charles writes: _Had to be sure.  
  
_ When the coffee shop is empty except for them and the owner and it’s getting late, Charles writes: _Do I have any chance on a second date?_ He adds the two squares for ”yes” and ”no” and hands it over. Billy smiles and adds a third square that he fills in. _Hell yeah. Do I?_  
  
It may be stupid. He hesitates. Yes, it’s definately stupid, but they’re alone and it should be obvious by now that Charles isn’t purely interested in Billy on a platonic level. Charles leans over, wraps a hand around Billy’s head and kisses him. Their lips connects easily. Billy opens up for him, letting Charles’ tongue meet his own and the very slightest sound of a moan slips from Billy’s mouth. He’s soft, hot and wet in just the right way and the taste of him is making Charles a little dizzy. The kiss is light at first, but deepens quickly. Billy may not be a talker, but he’s skilled with his tongue.  
  
The sound of chairs being put up on the tables, pulls them back to reality. The coffee shop is already closed and they should leave, but Charles doesn’t want to part from Billy yet. He needs to know where to go from here and he nods at the door.  
  
”We should leave, but I don’t want to part just yet. Is that alright with you?”  
  
Billy’s nod calms him. For a second he thought maybe Billy’d take the opportunity to run away. They leave the coffee shop and stop by a bench not far from it. Charles wants to take Billy’s hand again, but he’s not sure if it would be appreciated. There are not many people in the street, but it’s still far more open than the corner in the coffe shop, or the movie. Billy suddenly looks tired. No, not tired. Charles may not be an expert on, or even used to anxiety disorders, but it’s very clear to him that what’s about to happen now, is Billy having some kind of panic attack.  
  
Notes are useless now. Charles has to talk. He reach out a hand, but doesn’t touch.  
  
”Can I take your hand?”  
  
Nod. Billy’s hand trembles again and Charles carefully sits down on the bench, pulling Billy with him. They sit next to each other, close, but not too close. Charles wants to give Billy some space, but he still holds his hand. Waiting.  
  
This is by far the strangest kind of date, or meeting with a sober person Charles has ever had. For weeks, most of his thoughts has been focused on this guy. What he thinks, how he looks – especially naked – and how his voice would sound if he ever gets to hear it. What are his thoughts about Charles? Does he think about him the same way? Is it worth the anxiety that clearly follows this interactions? Or does he think Charles is stupid? Not intellectual enough? Sure, Billy was hard during the movies and so was Charles, but that doesn’t have to mean anything special.  
  
”I’ve never had a real date before.”  
  
Charles winces. After all these weeks, he’s become so used to the silence, he’s stopped wondering when Billy will finally talk, and started to wonder _if_ he ever will. And luckily, Charles now knows one of the greatest fears for many people with this kind of anxiety issues: that people will make a big deal of it if they speak. So he hopes he sounds calm and neutral enough when he answers:  
  
”I rarely date myself. I know how to play the whole dating game, but I’m not really interested.”  
”How come?”  
”People are mostly, you know… the same. You drink coffee or grab a beer, talk about your jobs, your friends, boring parties and kids.”  
”You don’t have kids?”  
”No. Don’t want any.”  
”Me neither.”  
”Thank god! Then I don’t have to talk about that.”  
  
Billy laughs. Or, to be honest, it’s more of a chuckle. It’s a pretty sound. Billy’s voice is pretty and Charles wants to hear more of it. More words. More laughs. They’re not facing each other and even though Charles would like to see Billy’s face when he’s laughing, he figure it’s best to stay calm and not look him straight in the eyes. Billy’s like a rare, pretty and skittish creature you have to be careful not to scare away.  
  
The few sentences he’s uttered, seem to have made Billy exhuasted. No wonder. They’ve spent long hours together and this whole meeting another person at all just for fun, is something Billy hasn’t done for… how long? He’s never had a date, but how about friends? Charles wants to ask, but he fears that would make Billy uncomfortable. Instead he turns slightly to him, just catching his eyes enough to make contact before asking:  
  
”No more talking tonight?”  
  
Head shake. A tired smile. Charles squeezes his hand.  
  
”If you think I talk too much, just punch me.”  
  
The silent laugh. Eyelashes lowering. The guy’s definately exhausted. And Charles is in love.

They sit for a while, until Biily’s ready to get up and they walk in silence towards the bus. They don’t know each others home adresses, hasn’t even changed numbers and while waiting for what Charles presumes is Billy’s bus home, he takes up his phone, typing in Billy’s name in the phonebook and hands the phone over to his silent date.  
  
”I guess you don’t make calls, but if you want to text anytime…?”  
  
The smile is still very tired, but Billy immediately types in his number and then hands his own phone over for Charles to do the same. Charles wants to make a victory dance. When the bus comes that Billy, as Charles has guessed, will take home, Billy gives him another kiss and a little smile before he disappears in the bus and leaves. Charles stands still for long minutes before he can manage to move. His whole being is in chaos. A very, very pleasant chaos.  
  
The rest of the weekend, Charles can’t think about anything but Billy. His smile, his eyes, his hot, wet dream for a body. Fuck, he gets hard from the very memory of the kiss and his mind is far too good at making up images of how it would be to straddle those hips, how Billy would sound and move under him, feel inside him and look when he comes… Damn, he’s so lost.  
  
Billy hasn’t texted him, but Charles isn’t surprised. In a way, Charles is a little tired too. He can only imagine how Billy feels. Better leaving him alone for some time. But on Sunday night, Charles usual hanging out with friends, movies and soccer doesn’t keep him occupied. Instead his thoughts are constantly turned to Billy. Neither of them has texted and Charles is getting nervous. Should he take the next step, or is it too early? He doesn’t want to push too much, ’cause the thought of scaring Billy away makes his stomach twitch in a highly uncomfortable way.

That’s odd. They’ve getting closer, no doubt about that, but even though they’ve had something going on – whatever it is – for quite some time now, Charles really doesn’t know what it is. It makes him feel a little guilty, there’s a thin line between ”looking up” and ”snooping”, but it’s been weeks now and Charles knows no other way than taking to Google.  
  
Billy lives alone, as Charles expected, but you never know. There are dudes who stay with their moms until they’re forty. He has no car, not surprising since he’s a student and he’s not a member of any sports team or other organized group activities, which is even less surprising. He has Facebook, but it’s locked for people who’re not friends with him there. He has nine and considering their names, four of them are relatives. The only thing to give Charles even a clue of what Billy does when he’s not at the university, watching soccer, working out at the gym or reading old poetry, is a locked Facebook group for people with selective mutism.  
  
This could be really stupid, but you do stupid things when you’re about as close to in love with someone as you can be with this small amount of personal talking. Charles is no exception and one evening he opens a new private message and starts writing.  
  
_Hi. I’ve met a guy with social anxiety and selective mutism who’s a member of this group. We’ve been dating – or something similar – for some weeks now and this Friday he talked for the first time. We’ve earlier used pen and paper to ”talk”. I’m trying to give him time and I know he’s interested, but I’m afraid I’ll do something to scare him off. I’m not here to snoop, but I don’t know how to proceed. He kissed me when we parted but hasn’t texted me yet. Any advice?_  
  
He waits anxiously for an answer and when the phone vibrates he almost flies up from the couch. He opens the Facebook inbox.  
  
_You just restored some of our trust in humanity. Text him, for fucks sake, wonderful person!!!!!!_  
  
What the actual fuck? Charles stares at the message. This… well, whatever he expected from an admin for a Facebook group for people with social anxiety disorder, it wasn’t this. But expected or not, it’s about as encouraging as it could be, he guesses. So, he sits and think for a while, and then he texts Billy.  
  
_I’m not sure if it’s too early according to ”date rules” to text yet, but anyway: I really enjoy being with you and I wonder if you’d like to meet again?/C_  
  
His heart almost gets stuck in his throat when the answer comes. _I really liked it too._ _Is it alright if I don’t know if I can talk this time?  
  
_ Okay? _Okay?_! Oh, baby, you can be as silent as a you wish, Charles wants to write, ’cause the answer from Billy is making his stomach believe he’s riding a rollercoaster. But he pulls himself together and answers. _Of course it is. How’s your schedule?_ He doesn’t have to wait long for an answer. _Have no evening plans this week, but I’m not too keen on crowded places right now._ Charles feels as if he’s fluttering when he texts back. _Pizza and horror movie night at my place? Or yours?_ The answer this time is a hesistant _Mine…?_ and Charles basically jumps in his couch like a fucking teenager, but he can’t help himself. He’s never longed for a person like this before. He wants Billy so badly it’s almost consuming him by now.  
  
A few texts later they have a day and time added – Tuesday seven o’clock – and Charles is completely exhausted – and hard. Yes, it’s far too late to deny _that_ now, and he gets himself off to the image of Billy’s lips around his cock. Alone in his head, thankfully Charles doesn’t have to be quite this careful with the gorgeous guy. Before he shuts down Facebook, he texts the admin for the social anxiety group again.  
  
_I have a date. Thank you for your help : )_  
  
Charles walks around in equal amounts of worry and anticipation and when the usual Tuesday coffee break comes, he’s practically a mess of nervousness. Billy shows up as usual and looks like he’s about to freak out any second. How the fuck are they supposed to handle an evening at Billy’s place, when even Charles feels like the cat’s got his tongue? A part of him fears that Billy will cancel. Or worse, just refuse to open when Charles shows up.  
  
Messy, stirred up thoughts or not, they get through both the coffee break and the rest of the day until it’s time for their date. It’s not a proper date, just movies and pizza, and they’re not going out, so Charles chooses a pair of light blue jeans, a white longsleeved t-shirt and a black shirt. He doesn’t want to appear too eager, partly from fear of making a fool out of himself, partly from fear of scaring Billy away.  
  
When he’s finally standing outside Billy’s apartment – he’s texted him in advance, just in case – he feels like his brain has been put through a whole week of work without coffee. Is this how tired Billy usually gets when he has to interfere with people? If that’s the case, then Charles can consider himself very privileged to get to meet him at all.  
  
Billy opens the door and invites him with a little smile. He’s nervous too, but that’s his usual state, so Charles doesn’t read too much in it. Besides, Billy’s so fucking hot in his black, loose fitting jeans and tight, white t-shirt that his nervousness isn’t really what gets Charles’ attention. The flat is cosy. You can easily see it’s a person who enjoys being at home, that lives here. A big couch filled with pillows, lots of movie and music posters on the walls, a big movie collection, an even bigger cd collection and his bookshelves… Fuck! Charles is stunned by the sight of all these books. Billy notices his face expression and laughs a little.  
  
”I know, I’m most definately a nerd.”  
  
He talks. Charles hasn’t expected that, but he knows better than making a big deal about it. Instead he shakes his head.  
  
”Do I even dare to ask how many books you have?”  
”Let’s just say it’s a three-digit number.”  
”Shit…”  
  
Billy laughs a little before he goes serious.  
  
”No one’s been here before. If you don’t count the maintenance guy, of course.”  
”How long have you lived here?”  
”Seven years.”  
”And I’m your first guest?”  
”Yeah… I know, it’s not very…”  
”I’m honored. Truly.”  
  
It’s no lie. No exaggeration. Charles understands more than well by now, how much it takes for Billy to let anyone this close in his personal sphere. Before it gets awkward, Charles orders pizza and within twenty minutes, they sit in Billy’s couch, eating and watching _Alien_ – a favourite for both of them – in silence. Charles is more than happy with the talking Billy has made so far. He’s clearly more comfortable with it when he’s not in public.    
_  
_ They get through the dinner easily. It’s just pizza, but considering how hard it was for Billy to order a coffee some weeks ago, Charles is ready to call this a success worthy of a fucking annual celebration day. After dinner, they keep watching their beloved horror movies. _Dawn Of The Dead_ , _Rosemary’s Baby_ , _The Shining_ …  All classics and they’ve both seen them dozens of times.  
  
Billy sits with his legs pressed to his chest, chin on his knees and arms around his legs. It looks a bit funny, but mostly vulnerable and the last thing Charles wants, is to make him feel uncomfortable in his own home. This is by far the most relaxed pose he’s ever seen Billy assume and it’s fucking adorable. Charles wants to lay an arm around him, pull him onto his lap and hug him. He wants to kiss him, explore that hot mouth again and… fuck, if he starts thinking like that again, he’ll probably scare Billy off. Maybe the way Billy answered his kiss was just the heat of the moment, and even if it wasn’t, who says he wants to kiss Charles now?  
  
They’ve not talked since they got the pizza and halfway through _The Shining_ , Billy’s discomfort comes back. He presses his arms so tight around his knees it looks painful and Charles reaches out his hand, careful not to touch, but only keep in within reach for Billy to grab. Thankfully, he does. It hurts, but Charles doesn’t mind that. He’s more concerned with what’s happening inside Billy right now. If he regrets letting Charles in, allowing him this close.  
  
Charles strokes Billy’s hand with his thumb for a while, then he covers their grip with his left hand, closing around Billy like a cover. He caresses the skin as calm as possible and when Billy’s breathing is down a little, Charles asks:  
  
”Can I borrow your shoulder?”  
  
He doesn’t look at Billy, just waits. And after the expected hesitation, the grasp around his hand gets lighter and their position shifts so that Charles can lean his head onto Billy, with a large, burly arm around his shoulders. Billy’s pulse is running wild by now, and Charles wants him to feel good. Nervous is one thing, but he shouldn’t feel anxious. So Charles talks.  
  
”If you don’t feel alright with this, just push me away. I mean, I don’t want to drop on the floor, but…”  
”I’m okay. At least… as okay as it’s possible to be for me.”  
  
Billy swallows. His voice is strained and his pulse gives no sign of slowing down.  
  
”I… I want this, you know. Have wanted it for some time now… And I’m shit scared.”  
”That makes two of us.”  
  
Charles’ voice is almost a little thick. When did he become this emotional? But it’s true what he said. He’s shit scared to do something wrong and screw this up, he’s been on edge for a long time now and Billy too. Charles decides this is it, at least for him.  
  
”Billy?”  
”Yeah?”  
”Can you promise me not to run away if I fuck this up?”  
”What?”  
  
Charles swallows.  
  
”I mean… I just know I want to be with you, but I’m always afraid I’ll do something wrong and make you run away and never speak to me again. I know this… inviting someone to your home and all, is a really big thing and I don’t want to ruin it.”  
”Charles…”  
”Yeah?”  
”I’m about to have the panic attack of my life if we keep talking, so just kiss me already.”  
  
Don’t have to say that twice. Billy’s lips are made for kissing, is Charles single thought as they come together. They’re eager and skilled, his mouth is a hot cave of wetness and the tongue is teasing, letting Charles chase after it in an way that makes him hard in no time and he moans. He wants nothing but fuck Billy or having Billy to fuck him. Either way would be perfect right now. Actually, if it stays with kisses tonight, Charles would be fine with that too. Getting this close to Billy makes him all giddy and breathless in a way he hasn’t been since his fucking teens. He’s in love with a guy he’s talked to less than he’s talked to his chatty neighbours, but he recognizes the feeling all too well to deny it.  
  
Billy wraps both his arms around Charles’ shoulders, pulling him down to make him sit on top of him and Charles is momentarily stunned. Billy lies on the couch, with fast breathing and a very visible bulge in his jeans. Charles scoots forward, letting their hips meet and starts rubbing his hard cock against Billy’s groin, as they both moan and kiss and grasp for each other.  
  
In this, Billy isn’t nervous. He meets Charles’ every move with equal eagerness, pushing up to get friction and his warm hands takes a stroll down Charles’ back, grasping, scratching and stroking their way down to tug at his clothed hips. As insecure and skittish as Billy is when it comes to talking, as easy and natural  his body seems to respond to Charles’ moves. It’s a whole different language and damn it, Billy’s fucking good at it. It’s not long before they’re heading for Billy’s bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes behind them.  
  
Charles has, of course, never seen Billy’s bedroom before and as they tumble down on the bed, he understands why. The bed has a bedspread with patchwork in blue, pink and brown, the walls have mild pink wallpapers and there are curtains in creamy white lace. It’s the most romantic room Charles has ever put his foot inside and with Billy firmly straddling his thighs, he can’t help but look around. Billy smirks.  
  
”Not quite what you expected?”  
”No…”  
”Don’t worry, there are no teddy bears or nightgowns to be found.”  
”Good. I don’t want you to undress, only to get dressed again in something else.”  
  
Billy laughs and leans down to catch another kiss, but looks a little puzzled when he pauses for some air.  
  
”What are you thinking about, Charles?”  
  
Charles knows he probably has his most sappy smile on his lips, but he can’t help it. Here he lies in the sanctuary of his most hot, handsome and shy costumer’s home, surrounded by old-fashioned patchwork and lace, with this pretty, sexy man on top of him. He strokes his thumb over Billy’s lips.  
  
”How am I supposed to _not_ act like a total romantic idiot and scare you off, when you’re this fucking adorable?”  
”Oh, I may have a solution for that.”  
”Really?”  
”How about you’re fucking me?”  
  
Of all the things Charles thought he wouldn’t get to hear tonight, ”how about you’re fucking me” is pretty damn high on the list. He’s imagined this for so many times and now he’s just stunned, knowing it wont just stay a fantasy. He smiles gently.  
  
”Just give me a moment to realise this is actually happening…”  
  
That, Billy is more than happy to give him, as he discovers. The pretty man slides off him and quickly removes their last pieces of clothing before curling up next to Charles again, pulling the cover over them both.  
  
Billy’s shyness and anxiety isn’t shown now. It’s as if it’s never been there, but Charles knows better. He takes his time just kissing, exploring Billy’s mouth, the sensitive skin on this throat, his neck for a long time, slowly building up something more than a desperate want for quick release. He’s laying between Billy’s thighs, who’s legs are twirled around Charles’ hips and they dive in each others mouths for long minutes. When Charles nibbles a little on Billy’s lower lip, he shivers a little and stiffens. Charles draw back, stroking Billy’s cheek.  
  
”Are you alright?”  
  
Nod. But the eyes are worried, the body showing signs of going rigid. Charles knows those sign by now and he pulls Billy to his chest, kissing his forehead, his hair, his temple while stroking his shoulders and the stiff neck. He’s letting his hands travel in loose trails over Billy’s spine, eliciting little sounds of something between worry and pleasure. Charles leans down to his ear, nibbling it softly.  
  
”You talk, if you can and want to. You have nothing to prove, Billy. Not to me.”  
  
Charles’ voice is dark and a little hoarse. Calm. The patience he has shown Billy for weeks now, hasn’t changed in the least and it stirs up emotions Billy isn’t sure he can handle with a straight face. He wants this, wants it like nothing else and now he’s unable to speak again. The tension makes his eyes teary and before he has any time to draw back in embaressment, Charles kisses his eyelids, lets his lips catch his tears.  
  
”You’re the bravest guy I’ve ever met, Billy, and I’ve wanted you for a fucking eternity. If you don’t want this at all, I’ll leave, but if this is only that damn anxiety speaking and you still want this, then I’m staying. And not that I don’t want to fuck, hell I’ve longed for that like you don’t want to know, but I’d be just as fine with just cuddles, movies and notes until you’re ready.”  
  
Billy doesn’t answer, but he knows by now that Charles is alright with that. Instead he allows himself to be kissed, caressed and petted, lets Charles come together with him, covering his body, rutting and yanking in slow pace. Billy’s not a virgin, but he’s not had sex in years and he wants Charles to know that. He holds up his hands and Charles looks at them.  
  
”Seven? Seven what?”  
_”Years…”_  
  
It’s barely audible, more of a mimicking, but Charles hears it. He watches Billy’s face with a gaze that makes Billy’s heart race, but not in an upleasant way. Charles strokes his cheeks and leans down to kiss him.  
  
”Can I ask you something, and I know this might sound stupid?”  
  
Nod.  
  
”You’ve been with guys before, right?”  
  
Billy rolls his eyes and Charles smiles.  
  
”I figured, but better safe than sorry. Top, botton or switch?”  
  
Three fingers.  
  
”Switch?”  
  
Nod. Now Billy smiles a little as well.  
  
”Perfect. Let’s hope I’m worth it.”  
  
Charles deepens the kiss before Billy has a chance to answer or get more tense. He takes their cocks in one hand and starts grinding them together, knowing that seven years lack of sex wont make Billy last long this first time, and that’s just as well, ’cause the last time Charles slept with someone, was a shitty one night stand two weeks before he started handing out chocolate to Billy’s lattes for free. He’s been hard and leaking for fucking forever tonight and just feeling Billy’s hard, large cock closed together and rubbing against his own, is more than enough for now.  
  
There’s not long before they’re both moaning and panting. Billy’s cock, the way he thrusts in Charles’ fist sends images of how it would feel to be fucked by him and Charles almost wails by the thought. Billy goes off first, no wonder if he’s been without for this long, and Charles next. He’s only beginning to breathe slow again, when Billy turns them around, scoots down and Charles shouts. He’s already come, but is still sensitive and having Billy sucking him clean feels so good he can’t keep himself from screaming the walls down.  
  
He’s good, really fucking good at this and to hell with talking. As long as they can write, Charles is more than willy to let Billy use his mouth in other ways.  
  
***  
  
Charles is slowly coming down from the high. For the last hours, he’s heard more sounds uttered from Billy, than probably anyone has in a very long time. And holy shit, has Billy not drawn out a lot of sounds and words from Charles as well… What Billy’s tongue is lacking in talking, it certainly makes up in rimming. Charles still can’t believe how this adorable, sweet man has been able to make him moan and scream like he has. If Billy’s neighbours are easily disturbed, they’ll complain for a fucking eternity now.  
  
But Billy doesn’t seem to think about such things. He’s nuzzling Charles’ chest, one big arm around his hips and the hand slowly stroking over his lower back.  
  
Billy entwines his fingers in Charles’ hair, looking at him with big, blue eyes.  
  
”Thank you. For the patience…”  
”You know I’m in love with you, right?”  
  
It just comes out, like the words have been waiting on his tongue since forever and just as Charles is certain he’s fucked things up for real, Billy smiles and curls up to his chest.  
  
”And I in you, Charles. And believe me, I’m just as terrified as you.”  


**Author's Note:**

> Selective mutism (SM) is an anxiety disorder in which a person who is normally capable of speech does not speak in specific situations or to specific people. Selective mutism usually co-exists with shyness or social anxiety. People with selective mutism stay silent even when the consequences of their silence include shame, social ostracism or even punishment.  
> Selective mutism affects about 0.8% of people at some point in their life.


End file.
